Page 46 of Wicked Succubus

I smile back, feeling a bit more at ease. “Sounds like you’ve got some interesting stories.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he laughs. “There was this one time we had to deal with a group of witches who decided to curse a whole neighborhood just because their coven leader had a grudge. That was a fun week.”

I laugh with him, the tension easing a bit. “I can imagine. It’s not all glamorous, but it keeps you on your toes.”

He nods, his expression growing more serious. “Yeah, it’s tough, but it’s worth it. We’re making a difference, keeping people safe—even if they don’t always know it.”

I appreciate his sincerity and the way he genuinely seems to care about the work. “It’s good to have someone who can handle the craziness and still keep a level head.”

“Thanks, Zel. I’m glad you’re here. We need more people like you on the team.”

The conversation slows down as we approach the club. Finally! I can feel the bass from the music vibrating through the car even before we park. My heart pounds in anticipation, each beat echoing the thumping rhythm coming from inside.

“We’re here,” Easton says, pulling into a spot a few blocks from the entrance. The excitement in his voice is palpable, but I’m more focused on the urgency of my task.

We step out of the car, the cool night air hitting my skin and doing little to calm my nerves. I smooth down my leather skirt and adjust my corset, making sure everything is in place. Easton locks the car and comes around to my side, offering his arm with a charming grin.

“Ready to have some fun?” he asks.

I nod, forcing a smile. “Absolutely.” But inside, I’m a bundle of nerves. I only have so much time before my horns come out, and I need to find someone to feed on before that happens.

We walk toward the entrance, and the line of people waiting to get in winds down the block. Thankfully, Easton has connections. We bypass the line, and the bouncer nods at us as we walk through the doors. The interior of the club is dark and pulsating with energy, the music so loud it feels like a second heartbeat.

As soon as we step inside, the heat and the scent of sweat, alcohol, and perfume envelop us. The lights flash in time with the beat, creating an almost hypnotic effect. My nerves are running rampant, and my senses are heightened. I can feel the pulse of the crowd, the mingling of desires and intentions. I look toward the bar and then scan for dark corners where the vilest men tend to hang. Lucky for me, everyone in here is already pretty drunk. I get lingering glances, but I make sure to ignore all of those.

“Let’s get a drink first,” Easton suggests, leaning close to be heard over the music.

Shit, I almost forgot I came here with him.

“Uh, yeah sure, let’s get something at the bar.”

We make our way to the group of people hovering around the alcohol. The bartenders go from person to person, filling up their drinks of choice. I lean against the middle of the bar while Easton goes to the other end of the bar to order our drinks.

“Fancy seeing you here.” A recognizable voice sounds right behind me.

I turn around, and I’m surprised to find . . . shit. What was his name?

He points to himself.

“I’m Chase, remember?” Oh right, that’s this human’s name.

“Yeah, of course I remember.” I try to play it off, and even though he smiles, I’m not sure he bought it.

“I never got your name.” I look around to see if maybe his date will come and claim him, but no such luck.

“That’s because I never gave it to you,” I tell him, then proceed to laugh like a dummy. Ugh . . . Sometimes I can be very awkward.

Without even thinking, I move closer to him. My body is working on its own. I place my hand on his heart. It’s beating loudly. This man is attracted to me. I should take him to the back.

“Well, can you give it to me now?” he whispers in my ear, and I immediately step back.

“Uh sorry, I have a date.”

I should probably go. Easton is already talking to the bartender, and I make my way to him, leaving Chase behind. I can feel his eyes lingering on me.

“Here you go,” Easton says, handing me my drink. I have no intention of drinking it, so I don’t ask what it is. Time is running out.

“Who was that?” Oh shit, I didn’t even know he noticed. There is no jealousy in his voice, only curiosity.